


Captive Audience of Sorts

by Oak_Leaf



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: The Silver Eye (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Humor, I don't know how to title, Originally Posted on Tumblr, out of character possibly? but maybe not, siblings being siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-21 15:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oak_Leaf/pseuds/Oak_Leaf
Summary: Noah and Marcus were fighting. Again. They never got along, but occasionally, the intense dislike would boil over and become a full-fledged dispute. Marcus would say something wrong, Noah would glare darkly and make medically-graphic threats, and on and on it went. They were like children, really, except children would have been easier to deal with.





	Captive Audience of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: _“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”_

Noah and Marcus were fighting. Again. They never got along, but occasionally, the intense dislike would boil over and become a full-fledged dispute. Marcus would say something wrong, Noah would glare darkly and make medically-graphic threats, and on and on it went. They were like children, really, except children would have been easier to deal with.

Back home at the orphanage, Idony had dealt with enough kids who insisted on disliking each other. The best way to deal with that was simply sitting the two troublemakers down at one table, and saying that they weren’t allowed to get up until they learned to get along.

Some of the more stubborn kids might sit there all night, but it always worked in the end.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t really do the same here. Her brother and Marcus, being grown adults and infinitely more bratty than any pair of children, would never listen and just sit down.

No, she has to take things a little further for them.

 

* * *

 

“What do you need again?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, my scarf. It can’t find it.” Idony made a frustrated noise, tugging at her brother’s arm.

“It’s somewhere in my bunkroom—”

“Cabin,” Noah corrected.

“Whatever! C’mon, I need you to look for it.”

Noah let her lead him through the common area below deck, and into the small room she shared with the Alvarado girls. They probably would have been her first choice for help, if they hadn’t been out with Apen and Joe on their current supply stop.

Idony pushed at him, and Noah obliged by stepping into the room. He blinked for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the much dimmer lighting in the small space. Squinting, he moved towards the berths. And then caught sight of Marcus, already crouching there.

The two stared at each other, confused for a long moment. Noah growled. “What are you—oh, _no_.”

He turned, just in time to see the heavy door close, and to hear it lock with a neat _clink._

 

* * *

 

Extreme measures, but it had to be done. Idony pocketed the key in triumph, and the feeling wasn’t souredeven as the two men she had just tricked and trapped began pounding on the door.

“ _Let me out_!” Noah demanded. There was a heavy thud that gently rocked the boat under Idony's feet, likely as he threw his weight against the door.

“You two have to learn to get along,” she called through the wood. Their pounding paused for a moment. “Really, the way you act is ridiculous. We’re all stuck on this boat together for who knows how much longer, and you make everyone else have to put up with your grumpiness, and it’s awful. You can stay in there until you sort out your differences, or come to a compromise, or—or whatever!”

“But—but—“ Marcus sputtered.

Noah groaned. “Idony…you can’t do this.”

“Oh, yes I can! You don’t get to tell _me_ what to do, Mister.”

There was a thump, that sounded less like a fist and more like someone dropping their forehead against the door in frustration. Shuffling. Sighs. Murmuring, perhaps?

Then Marcus spoke again. “Enel!” he yelled. “Enel, are you out there?”

He was, but Idony was confident he would be on her side.

“I—I’m your adoptive father, right,” Marcus continued. “So you have to open the door for me. Don’t let me stay trapped in here with—with _this man_.”

Idony could hear Enel shifting nervously from where he sat across the room. “Well…I would, but, I don’t want to go against Miss Idony, and she started giving me the stink eye just now, so…no.”

Just as Idony suspected. She beamed proudly at him.

“You let me out of here right now, Enel,” Noah roared, and the boy squeaked, “or else I’ll surgically switch your arms and legs!”

“Eww.” Idony reached out for where she thought Enel was, and her hand landed on fluffy curls. She patted them. “Don’t worry, I don’t think he even knows how to do that.”

“Maybe I do!”

Idony lifted her umbrella, and used it to give the door a good rap. “That’s enough! Enel and I are going to sit nicely on his bunk, and _you two_ are staying in there until you start behaving. Both of you! I don’t want to hear another peep until you do.”

She held out her arm, and once she felt Enel loop his through hers, she lead them away, letting her footsteps sound heavy and determined.

 

* * *

 

Inside the room, Noah tried frantically to get out. He threw his weight against the door once more, but the wood still held fast. The hinges were outside of the room. And if there was a second key to the lock, it wasn’t in here; he had riffled through Idony’s things, poked at the neat piles of Chara’s belongings, and searched hopelessly through the mountain of craft supplies that had consumed Berlyne’s living space.

He retreated, grimly, to Idony’s berth. Far away from where Marcus had slid down to slump against the door. He peered at Noah through the hands he used to cover his face.

“The other’s will be back with the supplies. They’ll let us out,” he tried.

Some of them would. Chara would likely be on board with Idony’s plan, and Berlyne would get too much of a kick out of this situation to help. Joe and Apen, however, would want to unlock the door. Noah hoped it would be Joe. If Apen opened the door, the irony of this situation would _reek._ He couldn’t decided if it would be worse for the boy smirk as he opened the door and let Noah out of the very room had trapped him in not too long ago, or if he acted gracious about it. The goody-two-shoes.

Noah grunted in response.

They sat in the dim light, the boat creaking around them.

“Looks like we’ll stuck here for awhile, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me.”


End file.
